User blog comment:Lordsunflash/The War For Mossflower/@comment-3135907-20110802203251

In a hidden camp behind a small waterfall of clear water heading down a gurgling merry stream, Flecla, Flagmaugh, and Goudab lie waiting. The marbled polecat Goudab fiddles with his shortbow, notching and unstringing a red-flighted arrow. Flagmaugh walks over to the wall of water that serves as entranceway to this cave and slurps down some of the heavenly sweet liquid for his parched throat.